


The promise we make is kindling.

by Quinton_Hawk



Series: Quin's Cinderella Phenomenon addiction [10]
Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Broken Promises, Canon event alteration, Death, Flashbacks, Fritz route spoilers but it really has nothing to do with him, Hildyr and Parfait's broken friendship, Parfait's death but with more feelings, Spoilers, one fulfilled promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinton_Hawk/pseuds/Quinton_Hawk
Summary: To break the crystals was a death sentence.Parfait would not promise her friend – no, her sister – death.“Hildyr, we cannot-”“What if we must?”(And so, Parfait learns... Some promises are not made to stay intact.)
Relationships: Delora/Parfait (Cinderella Phenomenon), Lucette Riella Britton/Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton, Parfait & Hildyr
Series: Quin's Cinderella Phenomenon addiction [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610977
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	The promise we make is kindling.

It had been a risky plan.

It was a plan that they all made out of desperation, hoping there would be something left to save.

Even so, Parfait never would have predicted that it would all end like this.

The crystals, the years spent together, the balance they maintained for so long… like this.

Pain strikes through her body from the base of her spine. Enough to bring bile to her throat. The last she recalls is a bright flashing light before she hears her name being called in a cracking voice.

She knows this voice.  
  


_Lucette.  
  
_

She tumbles to the floor, whatever grip that was holding her up being taken away. Vision filled with black spots, Parfait cannot to do much as move. She takes in a wheezing breath, white hot pain rushing through her lungs.  
  


The voice that calls to her echoes, as if far away. “Parfait, you’re bleeding!”  
  


She opens her mouth to respond, to call out to Lucette and tell her to _run_ , but… no sound passes through her bloodstained lips. Motionless and disoriented, she cannot answer.  
  


“Fait would not let go, so I had to bring her with me. Not that it matters.”  
  


Iciness prickles across the back of her neck at the witch’s voice. This is… this is not Hildyr. It can’t be. Blood drips down the tips of Hildyr’s fingers, a round droplet falling on the ground in front of Parfait.

 _Her blood_ , Parfait realizes as she sees crimson staining the cold floor beneath her.  
  


“What did you do to her? Where are the others?” Lucette’s voice too is coated in ice, though it is an ice Parfait _recognizes_.  
  


The sneer is audible in Hildyr’s voice as she replies. “They retreated like cowards, persistent things. I would have killed them, had Fait not sacrificed herself.” Her voice drops, stony. “You still care so much about those traitors. I cannot understand your attachment to them.”

Parfait pushes against the ground to lift herself up, but it only results in her sight turning black, a loud ringing sharp in her ears. She gasps and presses her palms to the throne room floor, cold marble chilling her hands.

She hears Hildyr’s voice only faintly through the ringing, barely comprehensible. Straining, she listens until she hears the name _‘Mythros’_ , and her heart drops.  
  


“Silence, Mythros! Leave, before I erase you from my sight.”

“Please, my Queen-”  
  


Parfait recognizes the spell mere moments before it is cast, and in those brief moments, she sees pure fear in Mythros’ eyes. Her hands shake against the marble, unwilling to hold her up.

The audible thud as Mythros hits the wall reverberates around the room. Gore stains the ground where Myth lays. It pools out slowly, thick like tar.

He was… he was only a child when she started this. He could have lived a full life and had been loved! He could have had a place to truly call home if it were not-

If it were not-…

For her own negligence.  
  


_How could she have let this happen?_ To Garlan, to Delora, to Mythros, to Lucette, to… this kingdom. If only she had stopped the fairytales sooner… if only they had done something about Hans before it was too late.

Parfait’s eyes sting, welling up with tears. She barely fights them back, what space she had gotten between herself and the floor closing.

The woman in front of her, standing before all the rest with nothing but rage and pain is not the woman Parfait knew.

She is not Hildyr. She cannot be Hildyr.

Hildyr is… truly gone, isn’t she?

\---------

_It’s a bright summer’s day in May, with sunlight flooding in through the windows. Fait and Hildyr sit in comfortable silence, Fait listening contently to the sound of Hildyr’s feather pen scratching against paper._

_She glides her hand across the smooth surface of the table to rest in the sunshine, feeling the warmth of it on her palm. The air is fresh and pure, all quiet save for birds and faint windchimes._

_Fait observes with quiet fascination as a bluebird perches upon the branch of a newly bloomed cherry tree, fluffing out its wings.  
  
_

_“If only the weather stayed this nice year-round… This winter seemed to last forever.” Fait’s voice comes out like a sigh, matching the mood of the lazy morning.  
  
_

_Hildyr stops writing, peering up at her before following her line of sight to the bluebird._

_“I’ve never fancied the heat.”  
  
_

_Fait giggles. “I know. You don’t fancy the cold either, though.”_

_The teasing smile falls from Fait’s face slowly in the subsequent moments of silence. It was unlike Hildyr to be this quiet, particularly on such a nice day or so early in the morning. She was always more of a morning person than Fait.  
  
_

_“Hildyr?”_

_“…hm?”_

_“Is there something wrong?”  
  
_

_The older woman looks like she’s internally debating something, furrowing her brow. She dips her pen back into the ink and pushes aside the document in front of her._

_“…Possibly.”_

_Fait tilts her head in concern, placing a hand over Hildyr’s. She curls her fingers to her palm, noticing just how cold Hildyr’s hand feels.  
  
_

_“Please… tell me what’s wrong. You’re worrying me.”_

_“You always worry, Fait.”_

_“Please.”  
  
_

_…  
  
_

_Hildyr sighs. “I just... You are not the only one who frets. These stories that the man… Hans, I believe was his name? The stories he has been scripting… fairytales… they concern me. You know that some children have gotten the notion in their heads that witches can harm them?”_

_Her grip on Fait’s hand tenses._

_“It is as though no one has told them that we cannot. Why is that?”  
  
_

_Fait’s next breath is shaky, drawn through a comforting smile. “I’m sure that we don’t need to worry about such a thing. There have been many stories before that people have told, and those were never taken seriously.” Fait smiles warmly, the expression looking less forced. At the sight, a little tension lifts itself from Hildyr’s shoulders. “There is no reason to fret.”_

_Hildyr places her free hand over Fait’s. She closes her eyes for a few moments, sunshine creating a shining halo across her hair. Her eyelashes flutter when she opens her eyes, and Fait is surprised to see the darkness within her irises.  
  
_

_…  
  
_

_“…Fait, promise me something, won’t you?”_

_The fairy falters, lips parting in surprise._

_“I… of course, what is it?”_

_“I have been thinking about this for some time. If something…” Hildyr hesitates as she rarely does, looking down at their joined hands. She seems to find strength in that, gathering more will to speak. “If something happens, we must put the safety of others first. Whatever that may take… I would take the risk. My people, they look up to me. They need my guidance… and so, I cannot fail them.”_

_Fait looks at her in confusion and worry. “Hildyr, what are you saying?”_

_“I am saying that, should something happen to upset the balance… we should shatter the crystals.”  
  
_

_Fait cannot keep the shock off her face. Surely, the blood has drained from her cheeks. She was quite used to Hildyr’s straightforwardness after all these years, but even so…_

_To break the crystals was a death sentence._

_Parfait would not promise her friend – no, her sister – death._

_“Hildyr, we cannot-”_

_“What if we must?”_

_“…”  
  
_

_Fait cannot deny that once, she thought of such a thing. She banished that thought as quickly as it came, and pushed it from her mind since. She did not wish to think of such things, but Fait also knows that Hildyr has no will not to think of the worst._

_The idea that Hildyr, the most sensible person she knew, was thinking of such a thing as well… it made dread well up in her lungs. She bites her lip, feeling prickling at her eyes.  
  
_

_“It won’t come to that,” she says surely, will turning to steel. “I won’t let it.”_

_Hildyr takes one of her hands away and lifts it up to Fait’s chin, tilting her head up._

_There is a softness, a_ realness _to the moment that melts the steel in Fait’s voice. Suddenly her mind runs blank, and she realizes that Hildyr is serious of this.  
  
_

_“Please, Fait. …For our own good. Promise me.”_

_Fait never would have promised such a thing, and she doubts she would ever be able to follow through on this promise, but… would it truly make Hildyr feel safer?_

_Fait has always valued herself to be someone Hildyr could lean upon and trust, but what is the cost? She looks into the witch’s eyes, gaze darting between them for any signs this was not her intention, and is surprised at what she sees instead.  
  
_

_Fear.  
  
_

_Her fear, that she kept locked up so much that Fait could scarcely ever see it, was laid across her expression like fragmented glass.  
  
_

_She takes a lengthy shuddering breath, her eyes bleary. "_ _I… I promise.”_ _Fait wraps her fingers around Hildyr’s wrist, holding her hand in place. “but listen to me when I say it won’t come to that. Whatever happens, no matter the trials, no matter the circumstance… we will face it together.”_

_There’s a flash of doubt across Hildyr’s features._

_"And if the worst comes to pass?”_

_Fait gives a watery smile, wiping away her tears._

_“I will not leave your side, as you have never left mine.”_

\--------------

A strangled voice pulls Parfait out of her memories.  
  


“How could you take a man’s life so easily, Hildyr? How can you be so heartless?”

“Heartless? I _am_ heartless.” Genaro bristles at Hildyr’s words, taking a step back. “Humans shattered my heart years ago when you hunted my kind. You did this to me!”  
  


_No, Hildyr… we did this to ourselves.  
  
_

This cannot go on.

Parfait pushes with what remaining strength she has, clutching a hand over her stomach as she stands.

She will not fail again. Not when Hildyr had faith in her. Delora’s death will not be in vain.

Hildyr whirls about to face Parfait when she stands in front of Lucette.

  
“You!”  
  


Parfait lifts a shaking hand to her chest, warmth spreading through her veins as a crystal appears in front of her. Glowing in gold, the light illuminates her eyes. Cracks spread across the exterior of the crystal, the light uneven like a candle flame, shining through breaks.

Parfait looks up solemnly at Hildyr, cupping her hands under the Lucis.

“What are you doing?” Hildyr demands, taking half a step closer.

Parfait blinks away a single tear. “…Keeping our promise.”

Hildyr’s eyes widen. “If you do this, you’ll die, Fait. You’ll die and remove all magic from Angielle… forever.”  
  


Parfait breathes in unsteadily, looking down at the crystal. “This is what you wanted to prevent, wasn’t it? Some part of you… knew," she whispers.

“You cannot do this-”

“What if I must?”

Hildyr stops cold at Parfait’s words. “…Nothing else will stop you, will it? Your hatred for humans, the corruption from the Tenebrarum…”

Parfait chokes on her next words, an empty promise echoing in her mind, distant.

_And if the worst comes to pass?_

_I will not leave your side, as you have never left mine._

She was a liar after all, it seemed. The one promise she thought she would keep… is the first to break.

“It runs too deep… I see that now.”

The rage in Hildyr shines clearly through, now. Unjust and scornful.

“Magic was never meant to be used with malice, Hildyr. As long as witches can be corrupted, magic will always pose a threat. I can’t allow that to happen. I won’t let anyone else suffer for our mistakes.” She shakes her head. “It’s… it’s not what you would have wanted.”

As Parfait looks up to face her once more, her heart twists.

“I wanted to change things with Delora, but…”

_But you took her from me._

The unspoken blame hovers between the two, fury flashing across Hildyr’s face. Her emerald green eyes narrow to venomous slits.

_Parfait, somewhere in a vivid memory, remembers those same eyes looking at her so softly, glittering in sunlight by a spring. The memory brings the taste of peppermint tea, and Parfait knows she will never be able to drink it again._

“What gives you the right to decide what to do with the magic?”

Once, she would have asked herself the same question, but now… she knows her place. Hildyr was the one who taught her stability, so if she must… she will help her remember.

“I am the Lucis bearer. It is my responsibility to maintain balance. But I see now that there can be no balance when the crystalum still exist.”

A calm wind flows about Parfait as light gathers around her, spreading to Hildyr.

As the Tenebrarum forms in front of Hildyr, the white light is enough to blind. Still, Parfait looks on.

“I… promised you, didn’t I?”

“I won’t let you do this, Fait!”

Her expression turns grave, the weight settling in on her shoulders. “…It is too late for that.”

_…It is far too late. She should have known._

The sound of the crystals cracking echoes around the room, and Parfait does not so much as flinch. If only she had known that it all would end this way, then maybe she could have…

“No!”

Parfait feels lightheaded as her hands beneath the crystals begin to fade, just as the Lucis itself does. Sparks of fairy light dance about them both as their images lighten, dissipating.

She hears a voice call out to her, but her focus lies on Hildyr. She snarls as she throws herself against the walls of light, desperation in her eyes.

_Perhaps it was fate all along_ , Parfait ponders. She had been asking herself how it could have ended like this when it started with sisters, but fate was cruel.

Fate was punishing to the kindest. That is the one thing that Parfait can believe in, when she looks at what is left of her friend.

A strangling bluebird, caught in the dead of winter. Icy and fading, the beauty of spring is still here. The image of Hildyr that Parfait has kept in her mind all these years crosses her mind, and she curls into that last spark of light for comfort.

“You would die for the humans? The humans that have hunted my kind because of their fairytales?”

Parfait finds some sense of peace in the memories, the grief dulling. Though she knows this is her end, she cannot find it in herself to fear. Perhaps… once it is over… she will see her friend again.

She gazes at Hildyr with soft eyes, her voice quiet. “No.” The fading crystals crack once more, down the center of both. “…I am dying for you, Hildyr. So that for once, I might save you from yourself.”

Hildyr chokes out a laugh, her gaze scathing, but grief in the sinews. Only Parfait might see it, knowing her as well as she does. She knew that somewhere, the Hildyr she knew was still there, worn by time and pain.

Parfait hopes she may finally rest.

“You are a fool, Fait!” The words are meant to cut deep, to make her regret, and yet Parfait does not. She merely smiles in resignation.

“Perhaps I am. But at least I will die with hope in my heart.”

Hope to see her again. Hope to find Delora… hope that she is finally whole. With her husband and her daughter. With the family that Hildyr stole.

Hildyr’s eyes snap over to Lucette, something unreadable on her face. Parfait also turns to the young Princess, a hand over her heart.

Hildyr’s voice is clear like bells as she speaks, despite her fading form. The venom is gone from her tone. She chooses her last words wisely, what is left of her breaking away as she does.

“…I truly did love you, Lucette.”

And Parfait knows it is true. Only this is spoken in a tone that Parfait remembers well, and her heart swells in an emotion she cannot name.

“Everything I have done, everything I did, I did out of love.”

But it was not love that fueled the Tenebrarum, and it was not love that brought them here. Even so, it ends with love if it could not start with it, so long as Parfait can try. It ends with the love that Lucette and this kingdom deserve. This kingdom will be safe in her hands. She will be loved and forgiven, so Parfait will take the memories with her.

Lucette is steeled in Fritz’s arms, tears in the corners of her eyes. She had come such a long way. If only Hildyr – the true Hildyr – had gotten to see how strong her daughter was. How kind a Queen she would make, one day.

She would have been as proud as Parfait was. She would have loved her dearly and wholly, guiding her with kind hands. Even if fate would never have it be, Parfait still comforts herself with the thought and smiles.

_…Goodbye, Lucette._

The crystals fade away to mere glittering dust, falling through the air and spilling over Parfait’s cupped hands. All Parfait feels is warmth as she closes her eyes, the dust slipping through her fingers and falling through her vanishing form.

There is a flash of white light that blinds her. She suddenly feels… nothing. Only lightness. She blinks open her eyes and squints into the light.

In front of her are glowing silhouettes, barely visible.

A familiar voice echoes about her, warm and sweet.

“…Welcome home, Fait.”

\--------------

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this fic. I wanted to throw out a special thanks to the discord for helping me with the idea/name for this fic.
> 
> Also, feel free to tell me what you think of the re-write/novelization. I always like to see comments.


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